Blame a Change of Mind
by nicalyse
Summary: "Your mother told me that you showed her a few steps, and that you're a good teacher. I'd like you to teach me." Mike-centric. One-shot.


Mike understands why his dad is worried about him pursuing dance as a career. He makes legitimate points about the toll that an injury could take on his prospects and about how the work is neither certain nor steady. There's a lot more security in the path that his dad wants him to be on: Harvard, then law school or medical school, then a high-paying, high-pressure job. And Mike knows that, unlike most people, he is capable of becoming a lawyer or a surgeon (even if the idea of seeing blood every day for the next forty or so years makes him a little queasy).

It's just that dancing makes him happier than any of that ever could. He'd rather live paycheck to paycheck, never sure of what's coming next (or if anything is coming at all) than not do the thing that he loves.

His dad thinks he's crazy, and while he isn't exactly encouraging Mike's dance aspirations, he isn't totally discounting them either. In any case, he isn't going to disown his son for pursuing dance instead of going to Harvard.

After his mom stood up for him, his dad kind of had to let him do the musical. And even though it's a lot of work, he doesn't let anything slide: his grades, glee club, football. None of that suffers because he's doing the play. He wants to prove to his dad that being involved in the arts _is_ worthwhile (or at the very least that it isn't a detriment). He's scheduled to within an inch of his life, and things like hanging out with Tina and playing video games with Artie go all to hell.

But opening night makes it all worthwhile.

His mom is straight-up excited about it. She watched the movie after Mike got the role, and she asked constantly about the progress of rehearsals and whether the other actors involved were going to be up to par. (Which, honestly, is hilarious; He's terrified he's going to lose his voice or just make an ass of himself up on stage with the likes of Rachel and Blaine and Santana, and his mom is worried about him being part of a sub-par production because of his co-stars.)

But then, it's perfect. A lot of people think most of what comes out of Rachel's mouth is a load of garbage, but Mike has always understood a lot of it. He gets that she _needs_ to sing, because he needs to dance. He gets why she likes performing, because making other people feel something because of what you did...it's a rush and a half, something he really can't even explain. But honestly, he never totally understood why she was so stuck on musical theater instead of becoming the next Adele or whoever.

On opening night though, it all makes sense. Being on stage, playing a character and seeing the audience's reaction...it's like nothing else.

(He tells her that the next day, when they're sitting together in glee. She smiles this perfect smile before wrapping her arms around him, and he understands more than ever why guys kind of fall at her feet sometimes.)

His parents come backstage before he even manages to get out of his costume. His mother has tears in her eyes and throws her arms around him as soon as she's close enough. "You are-" She cuts herself off, blowing out a breath of air and stepping back so she can hold him at arm's length. "You were wonderful," she tells him seriously, her voice catching a little at the end.

"Thanks, Mom."

His dad sort of cuts through the moment when he speaks. "Michael." Mike looks at his dad, standing there in his tidy suit, his arms at his side and his posture perfectly straight. His face though, is different than Mike has ever seen it. "I didn't know you could sing," he finally says.

Mike laughs. "I couldn't," he admits easily. "Tina gave me lessons."

His father's eyebrow ticks up just a fraction of an inch. "I see."

His dad doesn't say anything else about Mike's performance, though he does comment on how talented the rest of the cast is, without adding any commentary about the worthlessness of the theater. Come to think of it, he hasn't heard his father say any of that since Mike got the part. It's okay though, because his dad isn't really the sort to lavish praise on anyone.

The fact that his parents come to every one of the performances says more than enough.

The night of the last show, Mike is in his room just about to turn the light off so he can go to bed when there's a knock at his door. He's genuinely surprised when his father is the one who comes through the door; he can't remember the last time his father actually came into his room.

"Whatever qualms I may have had about you participating in the musical," he begins, looking Mike straight in the eye, "you really were quite good." Mike feels something constrict in his chest. "I see now the dedication required to be a part of something so intricate, and I'm proud of you."

The thing in his chest bursts, spreading a warmth through him. "Thanks, Dad," he manages.

It isn't like his dad has never said those words to him before, but they were always tied to academics. This is just...different.

He's pretty sure this is the best thing he's ever felt.

* * *

><p>On the second Tuesday of each month, Mike's mom meets with her book club, which leaves the guys on their own for dinner. Mike is in the kitchen with his dad, pulling some formerly-frozen french fries out of the oven while his dad flips the grilled cheese sandwiches on the stove top.<p>

This is their standard Book Club Night dinner.

"I wanted to ask you about something," his dad says.

"What's that?" Mike doesn't look up from the fries he's scooping onto plates with a spatula.

"Can you teach me how to dance?"

His hand slips so his wrist presses against the rim of the cookie sheet, which is just barely cool enough not to _burn_ him, even though it's still hot enough to make him flinch and drop the spatula. "What?"

His dad keeps his eyes on the sandwiches. "Your mother told me that you showed her a few steps, and that you're a good teacher. I'd like you to teach me."

Mike blinks. "Sure, but-"

He stops himself, but not in time, because his dad looks over and says,"But what?"

Mike curses himself mentally. "Why?" he makes himself ask.

His dad starts putting sandwiches on the plates. "Your mother told me that she wishes she'd been able to learn to dance when she was your age," he says quietly. "I can't go back and make that happen, but I can learn to dance with her now." He pauses, looking over and meeting his son's eyes. "If you're willing to teach me."

Mike couldn't stop the soft smile on his lips even if he wanted to. "Okay, Dad."

* * *

><p>Mike's dad leaves work early on afternoon (which Mike can never, ever remember him doing) to meet him at school so they can get started with their lessons. He figures his dad should be able to pick things up in a lesson or two; he doesn't need anything fancy, just the basics with enough flair to impress his wife.<p>

He looks surprised when he walks into the choir room and sees Tina standing there with Mike. "Hello, Tina," he greets politely, though his eyes are on his son.

"Hi, Mr. Chang."

"You're going to have to practice, and I thought it might be more comfortable if you were dancing with a girl than with me," Mike explains.

"That's sensible," his father says. "Are we ready to get started?"

"Yeah." He nods at Tina, who hits play on the music he's chosen before stepping towards him. "Just watch," he tells his dad before putting his hand on Tina's waist.

Mike hasn't butted heads with his dad very much in his life, even if they don't see eye to eye on everything. Generally, Mike just keeps his opinions to himself; he was raised to accept that his parents knew best and to do what they said. And in those instances when you thought they were wrong, you just kept your mouth shut. But part of the reason that they get along that way as well as they do is because their minds work in much the same way. Mike inherited his ability to learn things after seeing them just one time from his father. He knows that while he's waltzing Tina around the room, his dad is taking in every detail, from the way Mike is holding her hand in his to the exact distance their bodies move with each step.

After a few moments, Mike stops, though he keeps his hold on Tina, and looks at his dad. "Are you ready to give it a shot?" His father blinks, which makes Mike grin; it's the closest thing to fear you're ever going to get out of the man. "You're ready," he insists, stepping back so his dad can take his place.

Mike's dad hesitates for just a fraction of a second before putting his hand on Tina's waist. She just smiles up at him, reassuring, and Mike loves her a little more for it.

He takes Tina's left hand without prompting, setting his right on her waist and squaring his shoulders in a position that would be correct if he didn't look so stiff and uncomfortable. That part will fade with a bit of practice though, Mike thinks, so he doesn't say anything.

"You always lead with your left," Mike tells him, standing beside him and holding his arms up like he's holding an imaginary partner. "Forward with the left, then the right..."

He walks through the steps slowly so his dad can follow along beside him, going through them a few times until he's starting to get the hang of it with the counts instead of just the verbal cues Mike was giving him at the beginning.

His dad nods tightly when Mike asks if he's ready to try it with the music, and he has to suppress a grin at the obvious discomfort there. He hadn't counted on how amusing it would be to see his dad doing something so far outside of his comfort zone. The fact that he's doing this for his wife though, as a surprise, is more than a little bit romantic, and she definitely deserves it. Mike suppresses his urge to tease his dad and reminds himself that the best way to go about this is to act like he's a professional.

Mike can tell when they first start moving that Tina is doing a little (a lot) more leading than she's supposed to be, but he can also see that his dad isn't without grace. He's pretty sure that with a bit of practice and the confidence that comes along with it, his dad's going to be more than an okay dancer. Even as the song plays, he can see the tiny improvements.

He gives them a bit, then pauses the music. "Okay, the most important thing for a man to remember is that he's in charge," Mike says seriously. He ignores Tina, because he knows exactly how her face looks, and it never fails to make him laugh. (She's a feminist, for sure, but even a girl who knows she can do anything a man can do likes to be taken care of now and again, and dancing is the perfect opportunity for that.) "There are girls who will kind of take over if you let them, but you're leading. Mom kind of knows what she's doing, but you definitely need to lead with her."

"I'm not leading now." It's a statement because he already knows.

"For me," Tina says, speaking softly, almost like she's not sure she should say anything at all, "it's about feeling like the guy you're dancing with knows exactly what he's doing. It's easier to let someone lead when you trust that he's going to do it right."

"And when you aren't sure," Mike chimes in, "you just pretend like you are."

His dad quirks an eyebrow. "Fake it until you make it?"

Tina lets out a little giggle.

"Exactly," Mike agrees. "Again, with a different song?"

Mike watches his father move his girlfriend through the room, offering tips when he thinks of them but otherwise just letting his dad get comfortable with the new movement. Tina offers some suggestions of her own, presumably things that only a partner would notice. It's exactly why he asked her if she would be willing to do this. Brittany is probably a better dancer than Tina - even with the ballroom-type stuff - but her eccentricities don't play so well with Michael Chang, Senior. He may not approve of Mike being in a relationship at all, and Mike knows that he hates the streaks in Tina's hair, but at least she's respectful and polite and intelligent. She also doesn't take his dad's vague distaste for her too personally, and she isn't afraid of him, so she's willing to tell him if he could be doing something better.

There are a lot of reasons Mike loves Tina. Her being willing to do this is just one of them.

They teach him a simple turn before they run out of time, and they make plans to meet at the same time the next week. It's sort of an unspoken agreement between Mike and his dad that they don't talk about these dance lessons at home.

"He's really not bad," Tina says when they're in Mike's car on the way to her house. He just grins. Of course his dad is good: Changs are always good at things they set their minds to doing. "It's sweet that he wants to learn for your mom."

Mike doesn't say anything to that either. He just takes her hand, weaving their fingers together and brushing his thumb over the pulse in her wrist like always.

* * *

><p>Mike's dad takes the opportunity afforded by New Year's Eve to take his wife out and show off his new dancing skills. He tells her that they're just going to dinner, but Mike knows the real deal, and he can't help grinning at them when they leave, his mom in a deep red dress with a skirt that he's pretty sure will look great when she's dancing.<p>

(Three years in glee club means that he now not only knows what girls' skirts look like when they're dancing, but which kinds of skirts look best for it. It's a little weird.)

There's a party at Santana's that night, and while Mike has a few drinks, he doesn't get out of control. (Blaine and Mercedes handle that part, actually, with the loud and the obnoxious followed by the puking - Blaine off the back deck and Mercedes in the master bath.) They count down at midnight, Mike kisses Tina gently, and they decide to cut out before the drama in the kitchen between Puck and Quinn and Rachel gets really out of control and they somehow get sucked in. Since Mike knows his parents aren't going to be home until nearly two (the restaurant they went to isn't in Lima), he and Tina take advantage of the alone time.

He sort of stumbles into the kitchen the next morning for breakfast, and is surprised to find his mom standing at the stove turning slices of french toast in a pan. She comes over and stands on her toes to kiss his forehead when he's pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You are the sweetest son a mother could ask for," she tells him seriously, rubbing her hand over his cheek gently. She waits a beat, then asks, "Do you want strawberry preserves or maple syrup for your french toast?"

"Maple syrup," he replies, not sure of what else he's supposed to say. He figures that little compliment means that the dancing thing went well last night.

He has his mouth full when his dad comes in. He winks - _winks_ - across the room at his son before going to stand behind his wife at the stove, leaning down to kiss her cheek. It's a little weird, just because his parents have never been demonstrative people, particularly his dad, but nice, too.

* * *

><p>Driving back into Lima feels almost surreal. New York has been home for a little over six years now, and in that time, he's only been back home twice, much to his mother's displeasure. But his parents have been married for twenty-five years - impossible for Mike to imagine, given that he hasn't even been alive for twenty-five years - and they're having a party to celebrate. He feels a little like he has to be there, but more than that, he wants to. He's between projects right now, so he doesn't have any reason not to be there.<p>

Rachel places her hand over his where it's resting on the gearshift. "It's weird, huh?"

He just glances her way with a wry little grin. She knows exactly what this feels like; she hasn't been back to Lima any more than he has since they graduated.

Back in high school, he never would have pictured himself with Rachel. He couldn't have imagined how they would have ended up together in the first place, let alone how they would function in a relationship. But then they moved to New York at the same time (along with Kurt and Blaine), she to attend NYU and he to start his career. They stayed close, even though she and the guys were living in an apartment in Manhattan and Mike was out in Brooklyn in the tiniest studio known to man or beast.

But then Rachel learned that living with two men in a relationship, each of whom was coming into his own separately, wasn't everything she'd imagined. The end of Kurt and Blaine's relationship was stressful for her. They put her in the middle and tried to make her choose, and all she wanted to do was go to class and then be able to come home and not have to listen to either loud arguments or the eerie quiet of two people giving each other the silent treatment.

When their lease was up, Rachel and Mike got a place together in the West Village. One thing led to another, and...well.

He has a ring. He's just trying to decide when the best time is the ask the question.

His parents' party is being held in the Rose Room at the country club. Mike and Rachel sit together at a table at the head of the room with his parents and his grandmother, and Rachel's dads are somewhere else. (When they started dating, Mike's mother insisted on getting to know Rachel's fathers better since she wouldn't have the opportunity to get to know Rachel the way she would like. Now the Berrys are close with his parents, and Rachel talks to his mom on the phone a couple of times a week.)

The most important part, as far as Mike is concerned, is the fact that they've hired a live band to play, and there's a very obvious space at the center of the room that's meant to be a dance floor.

Well, that and the cake.

After the waiters have cleared the dinner plates, couples start making their way out onto the dance floor, plus a bunch of Mike's little cousins, all bopping around and being silly.

"They're cute," Rachel says, slipping her hand into his under the table where they're still sitting. He had been talking to his grandmother, but she just excused herself to the restroom.

Mike assumes she's talking about his cousins, who are doing something that looks a little like the twist, but when he looks at her and follows her gaze, he sees that she's talking about his parents. Going out dancing together has become something that they do on a regular basis, and Mike can tell that they've both improved a lot since he taught them each the basic steps in a dance studio at McKinley.

He kisses her temple and pulls her to her feet, leading her out onto the dance floor so he take her for a little spin. Dancing is a part of both of their careers, but he doesn't get nearly enough time to dance _with_ her; he's going to take advantage while he can.

Later, after everyone has been served cake, his mom walks up to the band leader's microphone and takes a moment to thank all of the guests for coming to celebrate her anniversary and such.

"Michael and I have been married for twenty-five years, and we've been together for nearly thirty. We've gone through a lot of things together, and we've done a lot of things together. The best of all of those is having our son, Michael, Junior," she says with a soft smile. Mike can feel everyone in the room turn to look at him, and Rachel squeezes his hand gently beneath the table.

"You're all aware of Michael's successes in his career," she goes on, "and we're so incredibly proud of him for those. But more than being proud of his success, I'm proud that he had the courage to follow his dream, even though it wasn't a sure thing. He's braver than I am." She smiles wryly, and Mike feels something swell within his chest. "Some years ago, after he told me about his passion, we danced together for the first time. Michael," she says, meeting his eyes directly, "will you dance with me again?"

Rachel squeezes his hand again before he lets go to stand and walk to where his mother is now waiting in the middle of the dance floor. She's smiling when she takes his hand, and they start moving across the floor. "I am proud of you, Mikey," she says, using the nickname that he hasn't heard from his parents since he was twelve and asked them to stop using it. He finds that he doesn't hate it any more, not even a little bit.

It isn't like this is a wedding, so other couples start joining them almost immediately, including Rachel with his dad, which makes Mike grin. He sometimes forgets just how short she is, but next to his dad, she looks positively tiny.

His mom pulls him into a hug when the song ends, and then his dad is putting his hand on his shoulder and asking if he can cut in. All Mike can do is say yes and be grateful that his parents are who they are.

He sweeps Rachel up, making her tip her head back and laugh. She's always beautiful, but he thinks his favorite is when she laughs; her whole face really does light up, cliché as it sounds.

"Your dad is an excellent dancer," she tells him after a moment. She moves her body closer to his, sliding her hand up so she can slip it beneath the collar of his shirt. "I can tell he had an excellent teacher."

He kisses her right there on the dance floor, almost forgetting that most of his family is in this room and potentially watching them.

He's going to have to figure out how to give her that ring really soon.


End file.
